


Gather Near to Us

by watcherofworlds



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: Christmas, F/M, Peggysous Advent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-21
Updated: 2016-12-21
Packaged: 2018-09-10 19:26:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8933869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watcherofworlds/pseuds/watcherofworlds
Summary: Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more

Peggy and Daniel share Christmas dinner with Rebecca Barnes, her family, and members of the Howling Commandos. During the festivities, they are snowed in, resulting in the sharing of stories from the war.





	

 “So,” Daniel said, leaning over Peggy's shoulder, “who's coming over for Christmas dinner?”

“Well,” Peggy replied, her eyes skimming over the list, “the Jarvises are spending the holiday with Howard, and Dugan and the boys are busy overseas, but Howard is flying Jim up from Fresno. Oh, and Rebecca and her husband are coming from Queens,and they’re picking up Gabe, Frenchie, and Rebecca’s parents on the way.”

“Rebecca’s bringing her parents?” Daniel asked, puzzled. “Her husband I get, but her parents? Why?”

“Because we’ve never officially met, and Rebecca wanted us to,” Peggy explained patiently, “We both agreed that this would be the best time for that.”

“Ah,” Daniel replied, nodding. “I see. And you’re not going to talk about…” He trailed off. Peggy sighed.

“No, I’m not going to talk about thier son,” she said, exasperated. “Not unless they bring him up of their own volition. I do have  _ some _ tact, Daniel.” Daniel nodded, but wondered which son Peggy was talking about- from what she had told him, Steve Rogers had been as much of a son to Rebecca’s parents as their actual biological son was. 

“Alright then,” he said. “We should get busy. We’ve got a lot to do before everyone gets here.” At that moment, there was a knock at the door.

“That must be Mr. Jarvis with Jim,” Peggy said, getting to her feet. Answering the door, she was surprised to find not Mr. Jarvis but his wife, with Jim standing behind her, looking slightly uncomfortable.

“Ana!” she said. “What a pleasant surprise! What brings you here instead of Mr. Jarvis?”

“I’m afraid my poor husband has gotten held up trying to convince Mr. Stark  _ not _ to throw a ridiculously extravagant Christmas party, so he asked me to drop off your friend for him,” Ana replied. 

“Oh well,” Peggy said, laughing, thinking of just how much like Mr. Jarvis was likely to have with that endevaeor. “Your timing is impreccable as always, Ana. Daniel and I were just about to start dinner.”

“Oh, well then I’ll help you,” Ana replied.

“That’s not necessary,” Peggy said, shaking her head. “We can manage just fine on our own. Besides, I’m sure you have your own holiday preparations to make.”

“Nonsense!” Ana said, waving Peggy’s protests aside. “I insist. There’s only going to be two people at  _ my _ Christmas dinner. The preparations won’t take any time at all.”

“Very well,” Peggy said. “Come in, both of you.”

Forty-five minutes later, with Ana’s help(and some awkward hovering on Jim’s part), Peggy and Daniel’s kitchen table was practically groaning under an impressive Christmas feast.

“Perfect!” Ana declared in a pleased tone. “Fit for a king!” No sooner had she said that than there was another knock at the door.

“That must be the rest of the guests,” Daniel remarked. Jim visibly brightened at the prospect of getting to see his friends. Peggy couldn’t say that she blamed him.

“Well, I should be going,” Ana said. “Enjoy the rest of your night, you three, and have yourselves a merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you too!” Peggy called after her as she left. “Thank you so much for your help!” Remebering herself, she left the kitchen and went to answer the door for the second time that night. When she opened it, Gabe and Frenchie filed in first, followed by Rebecca, her husband, and finally an older couple whom Peggy didn’t know but assumed were Rebecca’s parents.

“Rebecca!” she said exitedly, wrapping her friend in an embrace. “It’s so good to see you! It’s been such a long time!”

“It’s good to see you too,” Rebecca replied. “How are you?”

“Wonderful,” Peggy said emphatically. “I’m absolutely wonderful.”

“Good,” Rebecca said. “That’s good.” She waited for Peggy to exchange greetings with her husband before she tapped her lightly on the shoulder to get her attention again.

“Peggy,” she said, “I’d like you to meet my mother, Winifred, and my father, George. Mom, Dad, this is my friend Peggy.” 

“It’s lovely to finally meet you Peggy dear,” Winifred said, wrapping Peggy in a hug before she could react. “We’ve heard so much about you.” Peggy got the distinct impression that she didn’t just mean from Rebecca, but decided not to bring it up.

“It’s lovely to meet you both as well,” she said, pulling away from Winifred’s embrace. The group fell silent. Peggy studied George and Winifred for a moment and felt something akin to pain in her chest. When she looked at Winifred, she saw Rebecca, but when she looked at George, she saw what Rebecca’s brother James might have become if he’d lived past twenty-eight. She hadn’t known James very well, but that still hurt. Not wanting to ruin what was meant to be a happy occasion, however, she decided not to say any this to George.

“You look so much like your son,” she told him instead, knowing that he had three of them counting James.

“Not Joey,” George replied gruffly, though there was a smile on his face. “That one looks nothing like me. When he was born I joked that Winnie must have cheated on me. I’m lucky she didn’t kill me for that one.”

“Yes you damn well are,” Winifred quipped, swatting her husband playfully on the shoulder. “He looks nothing like me either, mister. I haven’t the faintest idea how we produced a child that looks like that.” Peggy glanced toward the kitchen where she had left Daniel and smiled. She found George and Winifred’s relationship to be rather endearing, and had hope that one day she and Daniel would have one like it.

As if her thoughts had summoned him, Daniel appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Are you guys coming?” he asked. “Dinner’s not going to eat itself.”

“Yes, of course,” Peggy replied, and followed him into the kitchen, with Rebecca and the others in tow. Before long, everyone had settled in and were enjoying a meal in companionable silence.

“This is wonderful Peggy,” Winifred spoke up after a while. It didn’t surprise Peggy that she assumed she was the one who had made dinner- Rebecca had told her that her mother described herself as a “career housewife”, and that seemed like the logical conclusion for a housewife to come to.

“I had help,” Peggy said, not mentioning that one of the people who had helped her had been Daniel, “but this is a vast improvement over all those time my Christmas dinner was C rations, let me tell you.” 

“George and I recieved a lovely letter from James one Christmas during the war,” Winifred supplied, seemingly out of the blue. “What made it lovely was mostly the rarity of it- letters from James were few and far between- but it was also so wonderfully written. Our boy always did have a gift for words.” Her voice cracked. George took his wife’s hand in his and gave it a comforting squeeze.

“I...didn’t know your son very well,” Peggy said hesitantly, “but he seemed a good man, clever and brave and loyal almost to a fault. And”- she looked down at her plate, unable to meet Winifred’s eyes- “he-he was a very good friend to Steve. More like a brother, really.” With that Winifred was crying in earnest. George wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to him. Rebecca rose halfway up from her chair as if preparing herself to leap across the table and comfort her mother. Peggy kept her gaze fixed on her food, feeling terrible.

_ Why on earth did I say something like that?  _ she wondered self-disparagingly, feeling tears pricking at her own eyes.  _ What is  _ wrong _ with me? _

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, in a voice gone hoarse with guilt. “I shouldn’t-”

“No, no,” Winifred said in a voice sodden with tears, cutting off Peggy’s apology with a wave of her hand. “There’s no need for you to be sorry. It’s just...hard, sometimes, to be reminded that my son is gone. You must forgive a poor old woman her tears.” Peggy met George’s gaze and mouthed  _ I’m sorry _ . George nodded toward Winifred, as if to indicate  _ If she doesn’t blame you, then neither do I _ .  Peggy gave him a grateful smile, and they passed the rest of the meal in silence.

When everyone had finished eating and the dishes had been cleared away, Peggy heard Gabe call her from the other room, startling her. She hadn’t even realized he had left the kitchen. She supposed the absence of muttered conversations in rapid French should have clued her in, but she had a lot on her mind.

“Yes?” she asked, joining him at the living room window. Pointing out it to the street beyond, Gabe said, “I don’t think we’re going anywhere anytime soon.” Peggy looked out and saw that the street was buried in thick drifts of snow, far too deep to be driven through. The response of her other guests to this news was surprisingly non commital. Jim for one wasted no time in retrieving the bottle of whiskey that Peggy kept in the cupboard above the sink.

“Jim, dear,” Winifred said as he was doing this. Peggy noticed that she had a habit of calling everyone “dear” or “sweetie” or “hon”. “Could you tell us about one of your missions with the Howling Commandos? James’ letters were never very detailed, and I’ve always been curious. If you don’t mind, that is.” Rebecca laughed at that.

“Are you kidding Mom?” she asked. “Talking about themselves is the Commandos’ favorite pastime.” This earned her a glare from Jim, Gabe, and Frenchie, but not one of them argued.

“I don’t mind at all,” Jim declared, taking a large swig from the bottle. “Have I got a story for you. I bet even you haven’t heard this one, Becky.” Rebecca winced at his use of her brother’s nickname for her, but gestured for him to continue. Jim launched into a story about what the Commandos had been doing at Bastogne, startling Peggy. Of all the stories she’d been expecting him to tell, that one hadn’t been it. She exchanged a glance with Daniel, who shrugged. 

When Jim finished his story, the bottle was passed to Gabe, who told one of his own, and then to Frenchie, who rattled one off in French so rapid fire it sounded like machine gun fire, with Gabe translating as best he good. When Frenchie was done, the bottle ended up with Rebecca, who talked about her experiences at the field hospital at Azzano, and when she was finished the cycle started again. Listening to her friends tell their stories, Peggy got a warm, fuzzy feeling in her chest, and thanked her lucky stars that she was fortunate enough to have so many of her friends and loved ones surrounding her on Christmas.


End file.
